Vlindrel:Pilgrim of the Abyss
---- ---- Tate: He takes a few steps back from the floating astronaut. ...Why the hell did you bring me here? Naphalias: The field of stars he floats in shifts and acclimates, changing positions to take a slow orbit around him. That great dark within you... Beckoned me here. I have not brought you anywhere. He moves his hand slightly, and the stars fan outward from him, transforming into black moths with a soft lavender glow around them. As the moths spread out and illuminate the area, they reveal Barlowe, sleeping as he still lay against the rock. The candle that sat between him and Tate has gone out. Master Barlowe... My presence has manifested his guilt... In his restless dreams, he knows that I am here... Some of the moths swarm above Barlowe in a vortex, forming into the shape of two men standing in the dark above Barlowe. Their words are quiet, difficult to understand. Tate: What are these moths... Doing? He watches them, tilting his head a bit. Naphalias: The dark is attracted to this dream... This memory... Both in Master Barlowe's occurrence... This had been... So long ago... And through this dark... He reaches out, but pulls his hand back in recoil, not wanting to disturb the darkness. ...We see it. The two men become clearer as the moths melt together, becoming almost like a holographic projection, and Tate can see a much younger Barlowe standing before a man drapped in a hooded white and black robe. Past Barlowe: His voice sounds healthier and clearer, with a more authorative tone. Like that of a strict old man. You've so much promise, built such a reputation in such a short time-But you squander it all to a fool's path! Just take the Headmaster's proposal! Join the council, you will be the youngest member in Aurelion's history! If you want change, start there! Past Naphalias: The cloaked man responds. His voice is still deep, even without the radio-like distortion, though he sounds much younger, like someone in his mid-twenties. I do not care for Aurelion's politics! You and the other Masters are not content with magic, you're content with your standing! Your riches! You waste away the hours kissing the feet of monarchs and nobles! I came here to become a wizard. I want to learn spellcraft unknown! Power that can change our very nature and connect us with the fundamentals of the cosmos! A knowledge beyond Aurelion's! Tate: Barlowe seems... So different... He tilts his head a little, watching the two men argue. Why are you showing me this? Naphalias: This is not of my volition... Barlowe feels great guilt over our last meeting, and the lepidopteran dark has manifested it as an astral image... A dream outside his mind.... Past Barlowe: You were like a son to me Naphalias... But this... This is an obsession that I can no longer support... No... No- Obsession is too light a word... Barlowe sounds angry, much unlike the wise and calm tone that he has these days. You've been corrupted by this research. Throw your prestige to the wind if you want, but I will cannot stand by you in this madness! Past Naphalias: The Aurelion's contentment with status quo is your corruption! This is a calling, one that I've always felt... And it is pure... But you're right... I cannot depend on you and the others to aid me in this... For what I seek cannot be found in the company of small-minded cowards... Tate: He looks between the two men. ...All this because you wanted to study darkness? Naphalias: The implications of my research went against the foundations of many established magical findings... Many wizard's reputations were built upon those same foundations... The bedrock of the universe is darkness... But many called it madness to save their claims... Past Barlowe: You may be brilliant, but you won't go far without the Estate's resources. All you've found so far, you've found by spending my credibility, my wealth, and with my support. What could possibly be beyond these walls that could help you more than what you lose by abandoning this academy?! Past Naphalias: A strange looking purple rune appears over him, it's center is round with two spikes protruding out, to the left and right of it are elongated diamonds, and below it is a horizontal crescent with a single spike protruding down towards his head. I seek the dark within the depths of man... His words carry a tone of finality to them, and they hang heavy in the air. Before Barlowe can respond, a swirling vortex of darkness engulfs him, and the moths scatter. Tate: Damn, you really pissed him off... He looks back at the astronaut for a moment, before looking back to the image. Barlowe seems so chill these days... Naphalias: I would come to realize later, that he only wanted the best for me... To protect me... But Barlowe does not have what we do... He lacks the insight to see in the dark. Past Morganstern: The moths suddenly swarm, forming the headmaster a few feet from Barlowe, looking down at the spot where Naphalias stood a moment before. Its single blue eye shines bright and more focused than what Tate remembers when last he saw it. ...What strange power he's already discovered... Its voice isn't a jumbled mess as it was when Tate spoke with it, but soft-voice of a middle-aged woman. Tate: He narrows his eyes as the headmaster appears. Fuck you Morganstern... Naphalias: Abomination of nature... Impossibly brilliant, yet complacent as the others... And resistant to change... Past Barlowe: He shakes his head as his temper is quickly settling to regret. He walks away from Morganstern, taking a seat at an invisible table a few feet away. He reaches out and a bottle appears in his hand. He opens it and quickly takes a drink, wiping his mouth and beard with his sleeve afterward. I'm sure you're pleased that he's gone, as will the council be once they've heard they won't have to accept a renegade spellcrafter into their ranks... Past Morganstern: Aurelion is not a place to delve into such things... A brilliant young man... But like most young men, he is subject to his passions... Perhaps one day he will return, wise with age and experience... But for now it is best that he leave. Past Barlowe: He is right... We've become satisfied with what we know... I spend my days teaching students what I deem useful... No longer do I stoke flames of creativity in spellwork... Past Morganstern: It looks to Barlowe for a moment. We train witches to survive and provide aid to a dying world and its failing kingdoms. We've no luxury of day dreams and delusions of grandeur here... Morganstern vanishes in a flash of purple light. The large headmaster fades away, as does the image of Barlowe. The real Barlowe, laying there and sleeping, makes a sudden wheezing as he nearly wakes with the dream-memory coming to an end. He scratches at his beard, and then immediately falls back to sleep. Tate: I didn't realize you parted on such shitty terms. He looks back to Naphalius. Naphalias: He sees a second chance in you... The remaining stars have formed into what looks like a galactic horizon, slowly swirling behind Naphalias' head. One that he wasted with me... Tate: Yeah... I kinda wondered why he wanted to help me so much... So why are you an astronaut anyway? Naphalias: I created this suit to survive the depths of the cosmos... Now it is simply what I am. He floats towards Tate, the star-like formations trailing behind him. My appearance doesn't startle you, as it had so many others... As he nears, Tate can see the large black visor on his helmet is swirling with an inky black liquid. Tate: Nothing surprises me at this point... He shrugs. That shit looks sick as fuck though, when do I get a universe aura? Naphalias: His voice comes out, more static and broken up as he nears Tate, his visor moving inches from his face. There are such fathomless depths within you... A piceous deep, below the placid rippling for your soul... His voice starts to sound clear between the breaking static, and Tate can almost make out a cold expressionless face deep within the visor. Tate: He starts to get freaked out and takes a few steps back. That's too close for comfort, man. You're in my personal spa- He slips and falls backwards on his ass. Naphalias: I merely wanted a peer... He begins to float backwards, and the trailing stars wrap around him like a mist of light. At that nascent dark... Concealed below the tide of your aqueous nature. Tate: He looks at the astronaut with a bit more caution. No reason to be... Such a creep about it... He's starting to get a similar feeling he got from Morganstern about this guy. Naphalias: You are a pilgrim in these far away lands, Tate... He holds his hands out to either side, and moths flow forth from the galactic display of lights that radiates around him. ...Are you not? Tate: He stands up, patting himself off a little. ...Sure? He's getting the feeling that he just wants this guy to go away, and is slowly nearing Barlowe to wake him as he looks up to Nephalias. Naphalias: The moths suddenly swarm Tate, settling over his skin. Then you must dress the part... In an instant they vanish, and reveal that his ragged clothing has been replaced with a sleeveless vest, long slim-fit pants, boots that extend to the middle of his shins, and something that's halfway between a scarf and a cape that's loosely wrapped around his neck and shoulders, the two wide and long ends of it hanging behind him like a divided cloak. The whole outfit is in matching black with light-blue piping and accents. It's incredibly comfortable, like something between silk and fine cotton, being just warm enough, but light enough to keep him cool. The vestments of an Abyssal Pilgrim... They will serve you well. Tate: He looks himself over. Trying to swat and path the moths off, only to realize that he's now wearing actual clothing instead of rags. ...A... Bit of a warning would've been... Nice... He grabs the scarf and tugs at it a little. But it's... A lot nicer than rags... He looks to Naphalias. ...So do all powerful wizards here randomly know how to replace my clothes? Naphalias: A static laugh that sounds like a recording. This Abyssal Raiment will aid you in your Pilgrimage... However... He holds his hands out to either side. From the darkness in his chest a set of objects float out, difficult to see at first, Tate quickly recognizes the items. It's his chakram, his spellbook, and Barlowe's brass cane. I now realize how disconcerting my actions have been... As an expression of my apologies... I will not allow Morganstern to keep these from you... Tate: You brought our shit! His eyes go wide in surprise. So we can finally do something! Naphalias: Yes... And with this gift I will leave you to your pilgrimage... He slowly moves his hands forwards, and the chakram, spellbook, and cane float over to Tate. To see the depths of dark that grows inside... He and the cosmic field of stars that surrounds him slowly fades. His voice comes from distantly in the dark. Pilgrim of the Abyss... The cosmic dark slowly gives way to the cherry-red glow of the flames in the valley below. ...May the dark light your path... Tate: ...The dark... Will light my path? ... Does that even make sense? He rolls his eyes a little, glad that Naphalias is gone, but also feeling strange, like he wanted to ask the thing more. He tugs at his scarf again. Barlowe: He suddenly coughs himself awake, and then breaths a heavy breathing breath. As he opens his eyes he looks to Tate. Tate!? Step back from the ledge! Tate realizes, that in moving to grab the equipment, he's standing right at the edge of the cliff, with the toes of his boots hanging off the edge. Part of it crumbles from under his foot. Tate: Huh? He looks down, vertigo instantly setting it. Oh Sh-shit! The ability to cast the spell strikes him like a bolt of lightning in his head, and the Flickers back from the edge just as he begins to fall forwards. He still stumbles forwards, but manages not to fall, looking to the ledge that's about six feet away. Barlowe: He looks Tate up and down. ...Those clothes... Where did they come from? Tate: Naphalias gave them to me... He was here... Just a second ago. He keeps staring at the cliff where the astronaut was floating. We talked for a while... He said wanted us to have these. He looks to his belt and hooks his tome and chakram onto it, then turns around and holds out Barlowe's cain. Barlowe: He leans forward a little, and with old trembling hands he reaches out and grabs the cane. ...Naphalias... Was here? He looks the cane over, seeing that it is indeed his. Even the edges at the top of it have been polished smooth from the centuries of use. Tate: Yeah... He looks like an astronaut, floating in a bunch of stars... He looks to where Naphalius was again. His appearance and then disappearance making it seem almost like a dream. Barlowe: ...An astronaut... He says it with a tone of awe and realization as he continues to look over his cain, but then he pauses, realizing that he doesn't know what an astronaut is. -A what? Tate: ...It doesn't matter. He looks back to Barlowe. Now that I have my Xena ring and this book I can actually do something. Barlowe: Yes-yes... Of course. He still seems to be partially lost in thought. I wish I could've spoken with him... Tate: While you slept... The darkness... Showed me what happened... Naphalias said it allowed you to dream outside your mind. Barlowe: He looks away from Tate. It was my greatest regret... That I sent him away... I should not have caved to Morganstern and the Aurelion council... He shakes his head. ...Knowing that he yet lives... I Should've left with him... I was a fool... Tate: He didn't seem angry at you Barlowe... He said he realized that you only wanted what was best for him... He tugs at his vest. While he feels more clothed than he did in his rags, having no sleeves is a bit weird. Barlowe: It is good to know that he found what he sought... Down here in the dark... And that he yet lives... He looks to Tate with a content smile. I'm also glad that you were able to meet him. Tate: I mean... He was kinda creepy, but I guess... Being down here for... A billion years or whatever will do that to you... He pulls his chakram off his belt and spins it around on his finger. Barlowe: He clacks his cane against the ground. When I first saw you, you reminded me of him. The black stone trembles and cracks, green light flowing from the crevices. After a moment the ground breaks apart, and a large stone chair rises from it. Lend me a hand if you would please, these old arms still ache from the journey here. He grabs on the arm of the chair and starts pulling himself into it. Tate: He quickly walks over and grabs onto Barlowe, helping him into the stone seat. I guess... I was being kinda emo earlier, when I said getting home doesn't matter... I feel better now... Maybe I dunno. He shrugs. Barlowe: Emo? He adjusts himself on the stone chair and mutters to himself. No accounting on stone to be much more comfortable I suppose... He dusts off the arm a bit and looks to Tate. Tate: You know, just... Being depressed or something... I guess. I don't want you to think I don't appreciate your help... Is all... Just feel like I can't catch a fuckin break, ya know? Barlowe: You've been through a lot, it's only natural that you'd have a somber mind about things... But... Not everything is beyond yuor reach, Tate. Just look how far you've come in a few days time. He takes a deep wheezing breath and looks up into the dark. Tate: Way too far... He rolls his eyes and smirks. I went to Hogwarts and then got thrown into a giant junkyard full of shit that wants to eat me... But I know you meant my studies with magic I guess... He looks down. And yeah... I guess I've come farther than I thought I could... He takes a deep breath, wondering if Leena could've taught him. Barlowe: Were I a faithful man, I'd thank my maker for a chance to mentor one last time in these final days... He looks to Tate. It is I that appreciates your willingness to listen to an old fool like me. He smiles a little. Tate: You're gettin a little too sentimental old man... He crosses his arms in front of his chest and looks at him sternly, then smiles a little. Barlowe: Oh of course. He looks around and coughs loudly several times, leaning back in his chair. ...It's just that so much has happened, and we met not even a full day's time ago. He clears and throat and quiets as he struggles to keep from coughing loudly. After a moment Barlowe and Tate hear movement. A quiet scampering sound nears and Loki suddenly appears, standing on the rock Barlowe was leaning against. Tate: Loki! You guys catch anything? He looks up at his little familiar, who responds with a "Yip!" sound as he jumps off of the rock and lands on Tate's head, climbing all over him and smelling his new clothes. You like 'em? I got them as a gift from the literal darkness. Loki lets out a purring sound and then climbs under the collar of Tate's scarf, finding a comfy spot where Tate's left shoulder meets his neck. After a moment his head pokes out and looks to the path along the cliffside. Blue Eyes: A man comes into view, having closely followed after Loki, rather than Kaali. He's tall and well-built, wearing modern black military gear, a rounded black helmet, and a facemask that has glowing blue eyes and a gas mask. He speaks in a warped tone. Tate? He's holding an ornate looking combination rifle that has four different barrels in three sizes. Slung over his shoulder is a large leather sack, and on his back is a huge camping bag. He quickly tosses both bags to the ground. Tate: The fuck are you? He looks him up and down. Barlowe: He senses something off about the man, through his strange armor and down to the core nature of his being. Step back Tate... It's a feeling that matches the creature that visited them last night. The demon-ling's words repeat in his mind: "My father could teach you real magic, old man..." The vaguest impression of a huge smile flickers in his mind, burning with hellish red light. He immediately slams his cane to the black stone, and a ring of matching rock bursts up around the newcomer, encasing his body up to his neck, leaving only his head visible. He's affiliated with a demon! Tate: He narrows his eyes and takes a step back, grabbing at his chakram from his belt. ...So many demons all of the sudden... Kaali: She walks around the trapped man, carrying a bundle of six fat rabbit creatures by their ears. Got you with that spell too, did he? She looks to Coty as she walks passed him and smirks, walking over to a flat space, she begins to prepare the rabbits to be cooked and eaten. Blue Eyes: He moves his head a little, the glowing blue eyes on his mask flickering for a moment, Barlowe's stone prison pressing up against his equipment. I can explain, just take my mask off, Tate'll know who I am... Tate: He looks at Barlowe for a moment, then walks up to the man. Barlowe: Mind him, Tate. Demon's are deceptive creatures. Tate: Hunter sent the last one, maybe he sent this one too. He reaches up to the man's face and grabs at the side of the mask. Blue Eyes: The latches at the corner of my jaw. He moves his head a bit so Tate can reach for them easier. Tate: He gets a little closer and feels for the latches, pulling them. The air filter pops off, and the glowing goggles split down the middle and open to the left and right, revealing the man's face. It's Coty, captain and quarterback to the football team back in high school. Coty: He smirks and nods his chin a bit. What's up water ballerina. Tate: He rolls his eyes and takes a few steps back. Coty. Barlowe: You know this man? He still holds his cane at the ready. Tate: Yeah he went to my high school, back in... You know, my world, where I'm from... Again, the fuck are you doing down here Coty? Coty: ...Well... That's a bit of a story... Where's Ahiga? Tate: We got separated a few days back. He's in some other dimension a trillion miles away. Coty: Well that's fan-fucking-tastic. He struggles a bit. Despite being strong and athletic, this stone prison has no give. How'd you get separated? Barlowe: I'm afraid that's a long story. He adjusts himself in his seat and coughs into his hand. He takes a deep breath, trying to keep his eyes on Coty in case he makes any sudden moves. Tate: I walked through a portal, got trapped by a giant robot-witch, then got banished here this morning because some demon pissed her off. He crosses his arms over his chest. Barlowe: Ah... He looks from Tate to Coty. Perhaps not that long. He smiles a bit, then clears his throat. I am Barlowe of Aurelion, this is Kaali, Chasm Knight of Loyce. Coty: Yeah I met her already. Name's Coty. He smirks as he looks over to her. Just Coty. Kaali: A peasant's name with no title. She shakes her head as she rips the flesh off of one of the rabbits, revealing that their bodies are mostly oversized muscles, and not fat like it seemed. Coty: You can call me Deep Impact if you think I need some extra names to throw on there. Helooks from Kaali to Tate and winks at him. Tate: He rolls his eyes. In the middle of endless darkness and you still act like a jackass. Coty: It's a talent, comes with being fearless and capable -And manly as fuck. He looks to Barlowe, then to Kaali, then to Tate. You guys look like you need a big pair right now anyway. Anyone going to remove this fuck'n rock? My nose itches. Barlowe: The rock tightens, with a piece on front of his head growing longer towards his nose. You'll not be free until I'm convinced that you aren't some wicked thing skulking around down here trying to deceive us. Kaali: If he were a demon I'd know. Barlowe: Would you now? Kaali: Our fight, though short, was informative. She looks to Barlowe. Just like when I fought you. Barlowe: Ahh... He looks to Kaali. Did he defeat you as well then? He smirks. Coty: I got her in a real tight bear hug, I think she felt me up. He leans his head a bit to look at Kaali, which is difficult now that the stones are tigher around him. Hard not to when you're pack'n as much as I am though. Tate: He sighs and flips his Chakram in his hands. Alright, maybe we should just kill him. Coty: The rocks around him tighten more. Alright! Alright! I'll tone it down! He mutter to himself. As much as possible. -Look you guys got a plan for gettin back to Ahiga or what? Tate: Kaali is leading us to a spear that can open the door that leads back to Vlindrel... Where Ahiga is. Kaali: It is no mere spear. She slices her sword across the stone ground and sparks fly onto some black grass, igniting them, then she glares up at Tate. It is the holy Eochaire. She grabs one of the rabbits and slices it open with her sword, then in a single swift motion she rips off all of its skin. And it is capable of opening any passage... She looks to Coty. Including one that leads out of this place... Tate: OK... He mutters to himself. ...Sorry I blasted your religion or whatever. He looks back to Coty. So, for the third time, how the fuck did you get down here? He raises an eyebrow at him. Coty: He sighs and leans forward, using the rock in front of his face to scratch his nose. Well... You guys want the whole story or just the cliff notes? Barlowe: I hazard to say that we're not going anywhere for some time. He notices that Kaali hasn't even started cooking the food yet. So why not recount to us everything? Tate: He looks back at Barlowe while he speaks, then turns and looks to Coty sternly. Sounds good to me. Coty: Sure why not. It's not like I'm going anywhere I guess...